


Midnight Cereus

by amanuensisgirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, F/M, First Year Fic, Gen, James and Lily are alive, Voldemort is the Minister, and a few people are fighting him, secret rebellion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 18:04:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5880514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amanuensisgirl/pseuds/amanuensisgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1981, Voldemort decides to attack the Potters indirectly. He seizes control of the government, declares them enemies of the state, and demands they give him their son. Ten years later, the Potters' "adopted" son James arrives at Hogwarts. All the while, James and Lily are secretly hunting for ways to destroy the evil that rules their beloved England.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Isaiah, with love.

Three months before the Dark Lord gained complete control of England, the Order of the Phoenix conducted a raid upon a meeting of the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. While the Dark Lord and most of his followers escaped, one Peter Pettigrew was stunned during the fray. After his companions left and the battle was over, Sirius Black unmasked the fallen Death Eater and discovered his longtime friend.

James Potter, friend to Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew, stopped Sirius from killing Peter with the clever use of a grappling hold he had learned in the Auror training course. 

Albus Dumbledore, leader of the Order, turned Pettigrew in to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Peter stayed in a holding cell for two days before escaping to rejoin his master.

James, his wife Lily, and his infant son Harry moved from their house in Godric's Hollow to another hidden location. Peter Pettigrew had been Secret Keeper of their previous location, but this time the honor fell to Sirius Black. In order to ensure Sirius' safety, he too lived with the Potters in the guarded home.

One month later, Millicent Bagnold was murdered in her bed. Lucius Malfoy was voted to succeed her. Precisely a month and seven days after this, the Dark Lord defeated Albus Dumbledore in a duel, killing him. It took only another month for the Dark Lord to gain complete control of England and install himself as Minister of Magic. The Dark Minister's first order of business: the death of Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter.

The Longbottom boy was finished with ease. Some of his most trusted followers strolled into Longbottom Manor, incapacitated Frank and Alice, and brought the boy to their Lord. The Longbottom matriarch, Augusta, had not been home.

The Potter boy proved slightly more difficult.

***

A crowd gathered around the entrance to the Ministry of Magic. The Minister was scheduled to announce a matter of great importance and people had been jostling for the best view for the past two hours. Finally, the Minister strode through the doors of the Ministry.

Even alone, Lord Voldemort cut an imposing figure. With his jet-black hair, red eyes, and snake-like nose, he looked just far enough from a normal man to be unnerving. His robes were dark as pitch, trimmed in green and silver. They billowed as he walked, in a never-ceasing wind that somehow avoided moving a single hair on his head.

But the Dark Lord was not alone. His two most trusted servants flanked him, Bellatrix Lestrange and Severus Snape. Snape had recently accepted a job as teacher and resident Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but made time for the duties his Lord bestowed upon him. Lestrange had been given the position of head of the DMLE upon the Dark Lord's seizing of the Ministry.

The Dark Lord stepped into place in front of the crowd, his servants behind him. “Sonorus,” he hissed, pointing his want at himself. Then he began to speak.

“Many of you know,” he said, “That I have been engaged in a long and wearisome battle against insidious enemies of the state. I am pleased to inform you that most of this needless violence is at an end. The war is won; we have triumphed against those would-be leaders!”

The crowd cheered wildly. The Dark Lord waited patiently for calm before he began speaking again. “However, there are still numerous rebels at large. Most notable is the family of James Potter. So I have come before you today to make an announcement. An announcement to England, to the entire Wizarding World, and to James Potter himself:

“I am a kind man. The war is done, I do not wish for any more unnecessary bloodshed. In fact, if every person in England cooperates with me, there will be no need for any bloodshed whatsoever. Still, I require confirmation that those who hate me and mine will not act.

“I am aware that, since the death of Albus Dumbledore,” he spat the name, “Potter became the unofficial leader of those rebelling against me. It would be reasonable, fair even, to request Potter's death. I ask for no such thing. Rather, I ask for his son.”

Whispers flitted through the crowd, stopping when the Dark Lord held up his hand. “Yes, Potter has a son. An infant. I do not wish for harm to come to the boy, simply that Potter give him to me to raise as mine.

“Of course,” he paused briefly. “If, twenty-four hours from now, Potter has not given me his son, I will hold a public execution of a member of Potter's little resistance group. This will happen once a day until the day that Potter hands me his child.”

The crowd was silent, the air heavy. Still, the Dark Lord continued, undaunted. “Let me remind you again that I wish for no violence. I do only what is necessary to ensure the stability of this country and end the threat from these insurgents. One day from now, we shall see what Potter has chosen.”

He turned and swept back into the Ministry, followed by his servants. The crowd dispersed and Diagon Alley returned to its usual busy state.

 

Twenty-four hours passed. James and Lily did not appear with their son. At 2:00 precisely, the Dark Lord emerged from the doors of the Ministry, followed by Bellatrix Lestrange levitating a bound Alice Longbottom. What followed was an hour of Bellatrix demonstrating her more creative uses of the cutting curse. By the end, Alice had still refused to beg for mercy.

The next day, her husband Frank suffered the same fate. He cried and screamed, but Bellatrix showed no mercy. 

The next day, Augusta Longbottom. Through the torture, she kept her wit and scorned the Dark Lord for all of his crimes. He killed her himself, angrily firing an Avada Kedavra after ten minutes of Bellatrix failing to silence her tongue.

The next day, Hagrid and his dog Fang.

The next day, Arthur Weasley.

 

Arthur Weasley's execution was to be special. The Dark Lord sent some of his followers to collect the Weasley family and ensure they would witness the death of their father. The family of redheads huddled together in the front of the crowd of onlookers. Molly, baby Ronnie in her arms, was held back by Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf. Her children gathered around her. The twins, toddlers, were too young to understand, but the others were old enough to know that their father was in danger.

The Dark Lord strode out of the Ministry, Bellatrix behind him, bringing Arthur. His face was grim, stoic, until he saw his family at the front of the crowd. His eyes widened and he began to struggle against the ropes binding his arms behind his back. The Dark Lord gestured to Bellatrix, who positioned Arthur to kneel in front of her Lord. 

William Weasley, age ten, clenched his fists. No one made his mum cry, not even scary Ministers with red eyes. And it looked like the crazy lady was going to hurt his dad! 

“Now, Bella,” said the Minister.

“Crucio!” 

Arthur screamed. For Bill Weasley, time seemed to slow and the world became focused only on his father's screams. All he could see was Arthur writhing in pain, all he could hear were the cries of agony. Bill's eyes filled with angry tears and he gritted his teeth.

At the Dark Lord's gesture, Bellatrix lifted the curse. Arthur panted, tears dripping from his eyes. The Minister glanced towards the Weasleys, smiling at the sight. Charlie and Percy clung to their mother's legs, crying softly. The twins sat on the ground, bawling and screaming for their father. Molly, holding a wailing Ron, tried to comfort her children and hide her own misery. Bill stood slightly apart, face scrunched in pain and anger. 

“Now, Bella,” the Dark Lord said, making eye contact with Bill, “Amuse me.”

“With pleasure, my Lord,” she smiled sappily. With a flick of her wand, she removed the ropes around Arthur's arms. He lay on the ground, too tired to fight as she lifted his hands and placed them outstretched in front of him. In this position, it looked as though he were bowing to the Minister, obsequiously, nose to the ground.

“Petrificus totalus!” Bellatrix froze Arthur in place. She cast another adoring look at her master, before returning her gaze to Arthur. “Confringo!”

His right hand exploded. Only a pulpy stump and a portion of protruding bone remained at the end of his arm. Arthur, still frozen, could not even scream in pain. A shrill noise not unlike that of a teakettle emerged from his mouth; all that he could express with the petrification still in effect.

Without realizing what he was doing, Bill Weasley ran to stand between his father and his tormentors. He faced the Minster. 

“Stop it!” He yelled, tears flowing down his face. “Stop it, that's my dad!”

Voldemort chuckled. Arthur had stopped making noise, but his wound seeped blood, blood that spilled in a pool around him and soon crept to his son's feet. Molly attempted to run to her son, but Greyback held her back. She could only watch, terrified.

Voldemort stepped close to Bill and crouched to meet his eye level. “And why should I stop this? Your father is an enemy of the country we live in, you know.” He smiled. “As Minister of Magic, it's my job to protect England from all her enemies.”

“My dad isn't an enemy!” Bill cried. “He's not!” Mucus dripped from his nose and he did not bother to wipe it away.

“I am not without sympathy,” Voldemort said softly to the boy. “I too know what it is to grow up without a father. If you can offer me something of equal worth to him, then I will let him free. What say you?”

Without hesitating for even a moment, Bill said, “Yes! D'you want my broom? It's new, a Cleansweep.”

“You think I have interest in a broom? I, who can fly with no need for a vehicle? No. You may make two more offers.”

“My chess set, then! The pieces can play against you and they give you advice and help you get better at playing.” 

“England is my chessboard, boy. One more offer, or your father's death will be on your hands.”

Bill thought wildly, searching for anything more valuable than his broom or his chess set, the two most valuable items in his possession.

“I'm waiting, child,” Voldemort hissed, becoming impatient.

“Me,” Bill said with finality. “Take me.”

Voldemort stood and laughed, loud and long. It was a deep, full laugh, and Bill thought he found sympathy in it. He began smiling, hesitantly, and then the Dark Lord said, “No.”

“No, boy, I like your offer, but I will not take you. Instead, I will take your brother.” He pointed to Molly. “Bellatrix. Take the infant she holds. He is mine now.”

Bill couldn't talk, couldn't think. He offered everything he could and still it was refused. He watched, unable to move, as Bellatrix wrenched little Ronnie from his mother's arms and returned to the Dark Lord's side. She handed him the baby.

Voldemort crouched again, looking Bill directly in the eyes, cradling his brother. 

“Remember this, child. Sometimes, there is nothing you can do.” Without taking his eyes from Bill's, he cast a Killing Curse at Arthur.

The Dark Minister stood. “James Potter's arrogance has cost this family a father and a brother. Tomorrow, if I do not have his son in my hands, it will cost them a mother as well. I am waiting.”

With that, he turned and swept into the Ministry.

The moment Greyback let go of Molly Weasley, she ran to her son. She sobbed and held him, before quickly gathering the rest of her children and apparating away. 

 

That night, James Potter arrived at the Ministry of Magic, bearing the corpse of a roughly one-year-old child. A child with jet black hair and bright green eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry takes the Hogwarts Express to school and has some interesting encounters on the way.

On the first of September, 1991, Lily Potter sat at her kitchen table reading the Daily Prophet and eating eating a breakfast of eggs and toast. Her face, creases just starting to form around her eyes, seemed pale and drawn. A few strands of grey showed through the rest of her auburn hair. A necklace hung around her neck, a silver chain with a silver pendant in the shape of a flower. A lily.

A young boy thumped down the stairs behind her. She turned at the noise and smiled at her son. Her son with his tousled black hair and brilliant green eyes. 

"Morning, Harry," she said.

"Muuuum!" Harry cried in annoyance. "You hafta call me Jim, remember?" He stuck out his lower lip. "We've been practicing for a whole month and you still keep messing up."

Lily chuckled a little. "Of course, Jim," she said with a laugh. "Your father and Uncle Sirius are still asleep?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. Didn't hear anything when I was upstairs though."

She smiled. "Alright, lovey. Would you like some eggs?"

"Please!" he chirped, sitting at the table. Lily collected her now-empty dishes and brought them to the sink, then began cooking eggs for her son. 

"So, Jim," she said, turning to wink at Harry, "Are you excited to start Hogwarts?"

Harry frowned a little. "I dunno, Mum," he said. "I mean, it'll be great to learn magic an' all, but I keep thinking about what'll happen if I mess up, or if I mention you, or if I accidentally tell someone my name is Harry, or what if," his voice lowered to a whisper, "what if the Minister realizes who I am."

Lily's eyebrows furrowed a little as she frowned, but she forced a smile as she placed two eggs on a plate and handed it to her son. "You'll do fine, Ha—Jim. Just do your best. And if you do let something slip, then your father will be able to fix up any trouble it causes. As for the Minister," a thump from a room upstairs made her pause for a moment, then she shook her haid. "Probably your uncle waking you father up," she laughed.

"Anyway, as for the Minister: you'll be fine, Jim. It's likely he won't even notice you're there, even when he gives that annual talk to the first-years. If he does, so what? He has no reason to think you're anyone but James Potter's adopted son."

Harry beamed at his mother and, after a relieved, "Thanks, Mum," began devouring his breakfast. 

A few more thumps, and Sirius Black fell down the stairs and landed on his back, laughing loudly. James Potter followed him with a scowl gracing his face. 

"Padfoot!" he yelled. "How many times have I told you that is not an acceptable way of waking me?"

Sirius stood, idly brushing himself off. "I don't know, but you'll need to tell me a few more times if you want it to stick."

Lily and Harry met eyes and chuckled. "Jump on him again, Sirius?" asked Lily.  
Sirius nodded, smiling rougishly. "What's the fun of turning into a dog if you don't jump on people?" He asked. 

Harry giggled into his eggs. James walked past him and ruffled his hair, then pecked Lily's cheek.  
"Morning, Lily," he said. He noticed the eggs already out and grabbed some sausages to fry with them.

Sirius sat next to Harry and winked at him before returning his attention to James, who had begun cooking. "You'll be making me breakfast too, then."

James rolled his eyes and reached into a cupboard above the stove, retrieving a dog dish and kibble. He filled the dish, replaced the kibble, and set the dog food in front of Sirius, whose eyes widened. He looked genuinely insulted. 

Harry laughed loudly. "Good one, Dad! How long have you been planning that one?"

"Oh, not too long," James said, "Either of you want sausages and eggs?" Lily shook her head, having already eaten. Harry requested sausages.

After a few minutes, James served food for Harry, Sirius, and himself. "Ready for Hogwarts, little one?" asked James.

Harry, still chewing some sausage, answered, "I'm a bit nervous, but I think it'll be fun."

"Now you know," James said seriously. "I expect you to follow in my footsteps in pranking anyone who deserves it." Lily shot him a glare. "Don't be mean," he added, "But be sure to get some good ones in there."

Harry nodded solemnly. 

"Anyway," James continued, "you remember the plan?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah Dad. Everyone thinks I'm dead so I pretend to be your adopted son James. If anyone asks, I tell them you went mad after Mum left and thought a kid was the only way to bring yourself back, and you picked me because you always wanted to be able to call your son 'Junior.' I've practiced before, remember? Even that mad old man at the wand shop couldn't tell who I really was."

"Now, Harry," James said, "Mr. Ollivander isn't mad, he's just eccentric. He's been a very good friend to us since before you were born."

"I guess," Harry said. "I just didn't like the way he looked at me," he muttered.

James pretended not to hear. "More importantly, your mother and I have something to give you."

Lily stood and left the room. Moments later, she returned holding something shiny, silvery. She handed it to Harry, who inspected it. It was a cloak of some sort. He looked at James for explanation.

James smiled. "My Dad gave this to me the day before my first year at Hogwarts. Now I'm giving it to you. It's an invisibility cloak. It'll come in handy for any pranks you play on your classmates." He sobered slightly, his smile faded. "And Harry. We know it might not be totally safe for you at Hogwarts, but there's no way out of going. I want you to keep this on you at all times, and if you ever think you'll be safer hidden, then put it on and get out of there as fast as you can."

Harry set the cloak down carefully before running to his father and hugging him. "Thanks Dad," he said, face pressed into his father's chest. James ruffled his hair.

A moment later, James pulled Harry from the embrace and held him at arm's length, studying him. "Time for the key element of this disguise," he said. He let go of Harry and reached into his pocket for his wand. Harry grinned; he liked this bit.

A few deft, decisive motions of James' wand and Harry's hair turned platinum blond and his eyes a deep brown. Not a trace was left of the distinguishing black hair and green eyes. He returned his wand to his pocket and smiled.

Harry crossed his eyes, trying to look upwards at his hair. "Did it work? Am I really Jim now?"

Lily moved in front of her son and crouched so they were eye to eye. "It worked, Jim," she said softly. "Now you have to catch your train. Your uncle brought down your trunk, and your dad will have to side-along you now if you want to get there early enough to slip on without being noticed."

Harry hugged his mother tightly, all thoughts of hair forgotten. "I'll miss you, mum."

Lily hugged him back, eyes watering. "I'll miss you too, little one. Remember, if you need anything—anything—talk to Professor McGonnagal. If things get bad enough, you can tell her the truth and she'll help you with all she can." 

"I will, mum," Harry said softly. 

Lily kissed his forehead and let her son go. She wiped her eyes. This wasn't the time for tears, not on his first day of school. She crossed her arms and watched as Sirius hugged Harry goodbye and came to stand next to her. James took Harry's arm, and the two apparated away with Harry's trunk. 

The tears came. Lily had never been one to cry noisily, but that day she sobbed. Huge, heaving sobs that left her body sore. 

***

Harry stepped onto the train after hugging his father goodbye. He pulled his trunk along, peering inside compartments. Most of them were empty, but a few were occupied, generally by boys and girls around his age. He planned on finding a compartment near the end of the train, but stopped when, peeking inside, he found one with a crying girl.

Cautiously, Harry opened the compartment door and entered. He shut it behind him and left his trunk standing in front of it, barring the way from anyone else who might wish to enter.

"Are you alright?" he asked the girl. She looked up, her brown eyes stood out starkly in her face. Her hair was long, curled, and frizzier than anyone's Harry had seen before. Snot ran from her nose.

"N-noooo" she wailed. 

Harry sat next to her and put his arm on her shoulders. "What's wrong?" he asked. "My name is Jim, and I'll do whatever I can to help."

The girl pulled away from him and his arm fell to her lap. She sniffled and wiped her nose on her robes. Tears still stained her face and overflowed from her eyes. She had a bruise on her cheek; Harry wondered if someone had hit her recently.

"My name is Hermione," she said in a thin voice. "And I don't think anyone can help me. This morning, two people in black dresses—a woman with black hair and a man with scars—came to my house and took me away. And then they did something to my mum and dad so they didn't know who I was any more. Then they said that I was magic and an orphan now and for the rest of my life until I finish school, I have to live with other orphans. Unless someone adopts me, but orphans only get adopted to be servants of rich people. And then they gave me a stick and said it was my wand now, and made me change into this weird dress, and told me to wait in this compartment until the train gets to the school.

"When I told them I wouldn't, that I'd run away somewhere they wouldn't find me, the woman with the black hair of them said that no matter what I did they'd find me. And then she did something with her stick—wand? She did something with her wand that made me hurt, the worst pain I'd ever felt, and when it stopped she and the man laughed and left me here. I was too tired to move, so I just stayed. A-alone," she started sobbing again. This time, she didn't resist as Harry swept her into a hug.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "That sounds like the worst thing imaginable. I don't know if I can help with the big things, but I promise I'll be your friend at school, at least. I promise. It's my first year, so you know just as many people there as I do."

Hermione looked at him and tried to smile. "Thank you, Jim." She snuffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve. Just then, the compartment door opened and Harry's trunk was shoved aside by two identical redheaded boys.

"Everything," said one.

"Alright in here?" finished the other. 

They looked concernedly at Hermione, who turned away. The twins turned their gaze to Harry.

"Um, we're fine, thanks," he said awkwardly. 

"Alright, then, mind if we sit here on the ride?" Asked one boy.

"The rest of the train's rather crowded and we find ourselves without place to sit."

Harry looked at Hermione, who nodded hesitantly. "That's fine," he told the boys. "I'm Jim, this is Hermione."

"Our names are Fred,"

"And George. We're in our third year." 

Hermione perked up a bit. "Third year? Jim and I are in first year, could you tell us a bit about what this school of magic is like?"

With that, the twins launched into a conversation with the two first years. The four of them hardly noticed when the train started moving. Fred and George were, without a doubt, two of the funniest people Harry had met, aside from his father and uncle. They even managed to make Hermione laugh with a clever joke about their outrageously red hair.

The door opened again and a boy with blond hair entered. He looked over the motley crew and sneered. 

"Let's see," he began without introducing himself. "A mudblood, Potter's adopted bastard, and two weasels. Am I right, is that who you are?"

Hermione looked confused, Fred and George angry. All three stayed silent. Harry stood up.

"That's right," he said. "I'm Jim Potter; my father adopted me when I was young. I don't believe we've met."

The blond raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Draco Malfoy. I don't need to tell you to stay out of my way. You'll learn soon enough.

"Since this car is not as interesting as I thought, I'm leaving. I thought the two youngest," he drew out the word with a smirk, "sons of the infamous Arthur Weasley would have more fight than this. I suppose I was mistaken."

He swept out the door. Harry shut it behidn him and returned to his seat next to Hermione. She looked just as puzzled as before, but Fred and George were shaking with anger.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked the twins. They took a deep breath in unison and nodded.

"What did he mean?" Hermione asked hesitantly. "Mudblood? And what was that about your dad, Fred, George?"

"First of all," Fred said seriously, "'Mudblood' is an insult. It's just about the foulest word there is, actually. It means someone who isn't descended from only wizards, making their blood dirty."

George sighed. "As for our dad, well, you'd find out eventually. Back when the Minister of Magic took over, it wasn't pretty. He tortured and killed our dad, actually as a way to get at Jim's dad." Harry tried to apologize, but Fred stopped him. George continued, "When that happened, the Minister took our younger brother, Ronnie, as well. He's dead too. Fred and I grew up youngest of five, with our mum working herself to the bone to keep us all fed and in school."

Harry stood up. "I'm going to find that Malfoy ponce and give him a piece of my mind."

Fred grabbed Harry's arm. "Don't. You might be James Potter's kid, but that won't protect you from Lucius Malfoy's anger if you do something to his son. It's not worth it."

Harry hesitated, then sat slowly. A few moments later, Hermione attempted to start a conversation, but failed. Malfoy's presence had ruined the mood, and the rest of the trip was spent in quiet.

***

The train came to a stop. Fred and George left the compartment with Harry and Hermione. They pointed towards an angry-looking man with only one arm and half a leg. The other leg, as well as the missing half, were replaced with wooden pegs. His missing arm was replaced with nothing.

"That's professor Kettleburn," one of the twins explained. "First years go with him to get to the castle. Other years take carriages. When you get there, you'll be sorted. We'll save spots for you at the Gryffindor table, for luck."

With that, the twins left. Harry and Hermione made their way towards Professor Kettleburn, who directed them to boats at the edge of a lake.

The boats brought the first years to Hogwarts, though not all of the children were able to appreciate the magnificent view of the castle the journey provided. Once landed, the children followed Kettleburn into the castle, where they were met by a fat, balding man with an unpleasant face. He stopped the students in front of a pair of large doors, which Kettleburn entered.

"Hello, children," the man simpered with a false smile. "My name is Professor Pettigrew. I am the Deputy Headmaster here at Hogwarts and I teach the Dark Arts class which you will begin soon."

Harry tensed. His father had told him about Peter Pettigrew. Pettigrew and James had once been best friends, along with Sirius and Harry's deceased Uncle Remus, but Pettigrew had gone bad after they left school and joined with the Minister.

Pettigrew continued, "In a moment, you will enter these doors and be sorted into houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Gryffindor for the riffraff, Hufflepuff for the imbiciles, Ravenclaw for the academics, and Slytherin for the powerful. To save yourself from asking why houses aside from Slytherin even exist, I will answer now: to ensure Slytherin takes only the best of the best.

"It is time to enter the hall. I will call your names, one by one, and you will be sorted. Once you are sorted, you will sit with your house. There will be no talking until food is served. Am I understood?"

The children nodded and followed Pettigrew through the double doors into the center of a massive hall. Harry couldn't stop himself from gasping at the sight of the ceiling: it looked exactly like the sky outside! Four tables, students sitting at nearly every seat, filled the room. Hermione didn't notice, as she was too busy staring at a table at the front of the room. She gripped Harry's arm. "That's her," she whispered frantically, gesturing at a woman sitting in the middle. "That's the woman who took me!" Harry looked and found a woman with jet black, curly hair and a manic smile. His blood ran cold. Bellatrix Lestrange, Headmistress of Hogwarts, had been the one to collect Hermione. 

"You can't say anything to her," he whispered back to Hermione. "She's the headmistress and she's seriously scary. Just keep your head down and do as you're told, that's what my dad says is safest here." 

Hermione's eyes, wide and frightened, met Harry's. She nodded and tightened her jaw in resolve. 

The first years came to a stop near the front of the room, forming a semicircle about a ragged hat on a stool. Harry stared at it so intently that he jumped when Pettigrew called the first name. He had been expecting the hat to sing, but there was no music. Instead, a girl put the hat on her head and the hall was utterly silent until the hat bellowed "HUFFLEPUFF."

It continued this way, in eerie silence punctuated by the hat calling house names. Hermione was sorted into Gryffindor and Harry was relieved to see Fred and George sit her between the two of them. It seemed like those two had adopted her somewhat; he was almost certain they had sat in the compartment on the train because they had seen Hermione crying.

"James Potter," Pettigrew called out with disdain. Harry approached the hat and set it on his head.

"Hello?" he thought. His dad had told him the hat talked to the first years while it sorted them. He heard nothing in reply. "Are you there, Mr. Sorting Hat?"

Silence. Then, "GRYFFINDOR!" yelled the hat.

Harry's eyebrows drew together as he removed the hat and placed it on the stool. He walked to the Gryffindor table and sat across from Hermione, Fred, and George. The twins nodded at him. Hermione beamed, and Harry smiled in reply. The four continued watching the sorting until Pettigrew called a name that made the twins turn pale.

"Ronald Weasley."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All will be explained with time.


End file.
